Patchwork
by Blue Roses
Summary: Harry/Draco. What effect will Voldemort's rise have on Harry and Draco? A patchwork of their past and their present exploring their relationship. *SLASH*


Patchwork

by Blue Roses

E-mail: blue_roses42@hotmail.com 

A/N: This story jumps around a bit. It is a bit of a patchwork in itself, pieces of an imagined relationship between Harry and Draco which I wrote at various different times. Hopefully, like a real patchwork it hangs together and is a whole entity on its own. There is plot, which you should be able to follow, but it is a bit of an experiment for me, as all my works are, so I'd love feedback.

This is the first thing I've posted on ff.net for a while, but I'm glad to be back, I've missed it here.

Warning: This contains Slash, which means boys kissing boys. Don't read it if you don't like hearing about that kind of thing. It probably doesn't deserve PG-13, but that's what I gave it anyway.

***

The house looked the same as all the others in its street. That was one of the reasons why Harry had chosen to live here. It didn't call attention to itself in any way, it could easily be overlooked. That was what he was counting on these days. Inside it was rather dark, and musty. Harry lived in a few rooms on the upper floor, which were rented out to him by Mrs Caseton, who lived in the rest of the house. 

Mrs Caseton was rather old, but she let Harry come and go as he pleased, without poking into his business. She was a muggle, of course. No wizard would have let him stay in their house if they had any sense. They would have recognised the scar, and asked him to leave as soon as possible. It was too dangerous these days to have anything to do with one of Voldemort's enemies, especially the Boy Who Lived. 

There were stories going around about what had happened to Harry's friends, who had refused to help the death eaters find him. Harry didn't know if they were true or not, he couldn't find out without the risk of exposing himself, but he prayed they weren't true. People whispered that they had used all the magical and non magical forms of torture they knew, including, finally the Crutatious curse before they had killed them.

Harry remembered the day that Voldemort had taken over. It had been a summers day, and any thought of Voldemort had been far from him mind. He was more concerned with when school was ending, and whether he'd be able to get out of staying with the Dursleys. The only thing he was really worried about was that he wouldn't be able to see Draco over the holidays. Then the world had turned on its head.

*** 

Harry smiled to himself, and stretched out on the grass. He loved the summer. When it was summer, he couldn't imagine living anywhere else but England. It wasn't that it was that hot, it was just pleasantly warm, and the light made everything look deceptively friendly and welcoming.

A shadow fell over him, and interrupted his musing. He opened his eyes and saw Ron standing there, looking vaguely lost.

"What's the matter?" he asked

"Oh, nothing, it's just I think I'm coming down with hayfever again, and I'm trying to remember what the spell was to stop it."

"You'll have to ask Hermione, she'll know. Where is she, anyway?"

"Oh she's in the library. She said something about trying to find a spell to keep ice creams from melting. I thought I'd leave her too it and come and find you, otherwise she might have got me to help, and I'd be stuck there all afternoon."

"I thought you liked being around Hermione."

"I do like being around her, but just because we're going out doesn't mean I have to spend all my free time in the library. It's probably the hottest day of the year. I can't stay inside, I'd go mad."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"So, where's Draco?"

"I don't know. I thought you were him, actually, when you disturbed me. I was waiting for him."

"Great, mistake me for Malfoy, Harry. That's all my ego needs at the moment, more bashing."

"Hey! Watch what you say about my boyfriend!"

"I was trying to be nice, I asked where he was, didn't I? But then you go and compare me to him. I'm not a saint, Harry. I'll try and be nice, but give me a break, sometimes, alright?"

"I suppose I'll forgive you. Just try not to say things like that, ok? Anyway, I think Draco's doing his potions homework actually. He's determined to beat Hermione this time. Not that he said that, or anything, it's just I've seen how annoyed he's been getting. Potions is his favourite subject, but she's always getting higher marks than him. We just got that new essay, and I'm pretty sure he's decided this is the one he's going to beat her in, he's been thinking about it all day, I swear. I hardly got a look in."

"Well, I've got a news-flash for him, he doesn't have a chance. No one's beaten Hermione yet, and no one is going to." said Ron, proud of his girlfriend's success "That essay isn't due in for ages. He must know what he's up against to have to start it so early."

They argued for a while, neither of them serious, but neither of them wanting to concede the point either. Once they realised they weren't getting anywhere, they drifted into silence, and both just lay and appreciated the sunshine. They were sitting there in silence when a panicking Draco interrupted them.

"Harry! Ron! You've got to get out of here!"

"What?" Harry answered sleepily "What's the matter Draco, you look like you've just sat on one of Fred and George's spike cushions." Draco was carrying both his and Harry's brooms, and was almost out of breath from running from the main school building. He looked as he had during one of their arguments, red-faced with a wild glint in his eye, but this glint was more one of panic than of anger.

***

It had been Draco who had finally called an end to their years of arguing. He decided it one evening, as he watched Harry and his friends from the Slitherin table. He realised that they looked as if they were having a lot more fun than he was, and he wanted to join them.

He reasoned that he had never had any proper reason for hating Harry, or Potter as he had grown used to calling him, apart from a sense of jealousy that he had all the things that Draco wanted, respect, friendship and admiration without having worked at them, or doing much to deserve them. He had proved himself later, yes, but everyone had loved him to begin with, apart from Draco. He was the Boy Who Lived.

Not only that, but even Draco's father had some sort of fascination with him. It was like they were in some sort of unspoken competition in his father's eyes, one that Draco felt that he had no chance of winning. His mother, in one of her more confiding moods had mentioned that it had something to do with Harry's father, but she hadn't said any more. Whatever it was, it caused Lucius Malfoy to complain that his son wasn't as famous, successful or even as powerful as the other boy was, which was rather unfair to Draco. He tried as hard as he could, but there was nothing he could do to match him. 

Draco decided that he'd held that against Harry for far too long. He couldn't help who he was, it wasn't his choice that had made him famous and admired, it was just the way life worked sometimes. It wasn't his fault what Draco's father thought either. He decided that he would make an effort not to be too nasty to him. Being nice was perhaps too much of a stretch, but he could probably manage not to be nasty. It wasn't the way he usually behaved, that group of friends had just got under his skin. 

At least this was one group of friends that Lucius wouldn't have dictated to him to be friendly to. He'd chosen who visited Draco since he was small, which meant he hadn't had much choice about the sort of people he knew. Then he'd got into Slitherin, which his father had wanted for him. He could say to his father that he was being friendly as a source of information, if he ever found out, but these were not the friends his father would have wanted him to have.

The being nice policy worked for at least three days. (The day Draco had decided didn't count, since it was at supper and there would have been no time left after that to be nasty anyway.) It was on the fourth day that he started having trouble with it.

For one thing, the group of Griffindor friends had noticed. For another thing so had the Slitherins. It wasn't so bad with the Griffindors. They just gave him odd looks, as if to say 'what are you planning?'. The Slitherins were more trouble. He couldn't exactly tell them of his decision without losing his hard won respect, so he just tried to laugh off the questions about why the famous rivalry had been cooled off.

Things came to a head in potions. For some reason, potions seemed to be one of the most eventful classes that Draco had. It was right up there with Care of Magical Creatures in the thrills and spills section of Draco's mind, although the thrills and spills in Potions tended to be literal spills, usually because of Neville Longbottom, and they were never quite as life threatening as Hagrid's lessons. 

He himself caused the spill this time. That in itself was surprising, he was usually more careful than that in Potions, he didn't want to loose Snape's goodwill, he'd seen what he did to people he didn't like, and he knew he didn't want that to happen to him. The worst thing was though, that he had managed to spill the whole thing on Harry Potter.

A mixture of griffin's bane and toad spawn is never a nice thing to have thrown all over you, and Draco couldn't help feeling slightly sorry for Harry. It didn't forgive the things Harry called him, though. I mean, where did 'devil boy' come from? That wasn't nice, and he didn't believe in God, let alone the devil. It wasn't as if the potion had any terribly harmful effects, either. 

It was the beginning of a wart healing potion, and all it did was turn the skin it landed on a light shade of purple, which was easily cleaned off with soap and water. Still, in his spirit of being nice, Draco apologised, swallowing his anger.

Harry looked at him very oddly when Draco apologised to him. He did it after class, so the Slitherins wouldn't see, but Harry's reaction was bad enough.

"What? You're...? I never thought I'd hear you say that." He walked off, still shaking his head slightly, as if to shake out the odd thing that had just happened. Draco got annoyed. It wasn't as if he'd ever done anything too bad to Harry. He didn't see why he'd decided that he wasn't a human being. He didn't like mudbloods much, it was true, but that didn't mean he didn't have manners.

***

Draco was panting, but had the strength to pull Harry to his feet. "Look, Harry you have to go." In a tone that Harry knew, allowed no argument. "This is important. The death eaters, they're coming here. I didn't know until today, I wasn't sure until just now, but you have to go. It's not safe here for you any more."

"What do you mean? They're coming here? Well, we should fight them, shouldn't we? There's got to be something we can do. We can't just run away. Anyway, where are we going to go?"

"You have to run, Harry, they're too strong for you to fight. I know, I've heard about their forces. You wouldn't have a chance. There's no choice. I've got you broom. Ron can borrow mine. You can both get out of here, fly of and get to safety. Hide somewhere safe, where they won't find you. I can't tell you where to go, because I don't know, but I'm sure you'll fine somewhere Harry. The important thing is for you to get away."

Draco looked at Ron "I've told Hermione, she's going through the tunnel to the village, you can pick her up there. Voldemort won't harm most of the students, I don't think, you're the ones that are most at risk. You'll probably have to spilt up, you'd be too obvious together."

"But what about you, Draco? You have to come with me." said Harry, oblivious to any danger he was facing if it meant he'd have to leave Draco.

"I can't. You have to go on your own. I'm sorry Harry, but I have to stay. My father won't stop looking if he thinks we're together. At least on you own you have some chance of getting away and being safe. I have to stay here, it's the only way."

Harry paled "Don't tell me I have to leave you Draco, I don't want to loose this, for God's sake, please don't. Everything was going so perfectly."

"We don't have a choice Harry, believe me if I could think of another way...but they're coming. You have to go. I have to know you're safe, please Harry, please just go."

Draco looked at him in the eye, not wanting him to leave but knowing he had to. He was doing this for Harry, but this was more important than any of the things he had done in the past. This time he was doing it to keep Harry alive.

***

Draco had looked slightly abashed, and unable to look Harry in the eyes, had pushed the box into his hands, and muttered something like "This is for you" and walked off before Harry had even had a chance to thank him. He'd make up for that this evening, though, now he'd found out what was in it.

Draco had given him chocolates. Harry just looked at them for a while, as if they would evaporate. There they were. lined up in rows, looking so... edible. Harry had never been given chocolates before, especially not as a valentine's gift, and he was unsure of what to do. Eat them, he supposed.

It was almost a shame, though. They looked so perfect sitting there that he could hardly bare to spoil their formation. Hand wrapped, this box of chocolates had obviously cost a lot of money. 

He worried about that. He knew Draco's family wasn't hurting for cash, but he didn't want his father to get suspicious about what he was spending it on either. They hadn't told them about their burgeoning affair, and Harry didn't plan on it any time soon. He had never had the misfortune to be on the wrong side of Lucius Malfoy, but from what he had heard from Draco it was not an enviable position. If the father was anything like the son, Harry could well imagine that.

He himself had been on the end of several of Draco's more furious tirades, both when they were enemies, and more recently, when Draco had become worried about him risking his life against some evil plot. The most spectacular had been the cause of their relationship.

Harry had annoyed Draco somehow, he hardly remembered what for, probably because of something foolhardy Harry had done, and Draco had taken the excuse to scream at Harry for every single thing he had ever done, imagined or not, that had annoyed or angered him. 

He finished off by kissing Harry, very soundly, on the lips, and then staring at him as if he had grown another head.

Harry stared back, and then, taking his life into his hands, kissed Draco back. He was very glad that they were alone in the room at the time.

Rather than pushing Harry away, as he was expecting, Draco responded enthusiastically, and their relationship began there. It hadn't been all wonderful, but moments such as today made it all worth it.

***

The knock at the door startled Harry, because no one knew where he lived. He hadn't had a visitor for a long time. The only person who came round was Mrs Caseton looking for the rent, and that wasn't due until Friday. He couldn't think who else would be calling on him, unless it was some religious group trying to save his soul or something. He had his own entrance to the house, so people usually used the main one and left him alone.

His door didn't have a peephole in it, so he couldn't see who was standing there. He felt a wave of foreboding wash over him. Just last week he'd heard a rumour of someone being mugged outside their own flat in one of the buildings opposite, and that was by muggles. He had even worse people out to get him. Whatever the cruelty of muggles, they were usually out for money. Death eaters were out for something far more abstract, and pain was part of their motive. They wanted to cause pain and suffering, so they were far more dangerous.

He didn't think any of Voldemort's people would have found him here, but he couldn't be sure. He might as well answer it though, they could get through a locked door pretty easily, even if he had reinforced his locks with a few choice curses.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. However long he'd been on the run the fear never went away. It was eroded slightly, but it was still enough to make him catch his breath at times.

On his doorstep stood a cloaked figure. That on its own was almost enough for him to slam the door was start running for the window, because there weren't many muggles who went around dressed like that. 

Luckily his reflexes weren't as fast as he might have liked, because before he had the chance to move, slate grey eyes looked up into his, and he gave up any thought of moving.

"Draco?" was all he could say.

"Shhh" was all the cloaked figure answered "I don't have much time" 

***

For a while they'd kept their relationship secret from everyone, and had sneaked around, only kissing each other and acting as if they were going out when they were sure that no-one else was looking. Draco knew that Harry wouldn't be happy with having it that way forever, he was too attached to his friends to lie to them for long, so he enjoyed the days as they lasted, aware that soon news of their relationship would be put for some reason or another, and enjoying the trouble-free time for the rarity he knew it to be.

It was two weeks before Harry brought up the subject of telling his friends. Draco had secretly made a bet with himself that it would be less, so he wasn't entirely surprised when Harry asked.

"I don't feel comfortable not telling them, Drac. It feels too much like I'm lying to them, and they're my friends, I can't do that."

Draco sighed. He knew it would have to happen, but that didn't make him like it. "You can tell them if you want to Harry, it's up to you, but I'd rather if the whole school doesn't know. My father'd never forgive me, I don't want to tell him if it's possible. It's not that I'm ashamed of you, but he wouldn't understand, and he'd probably find some way of splitting us up."

"Ok, thanks Drac, it means a lot." Harry smiled.

Draco smiled back and secretly congratulated himself on skating over some rather worrying areas. He'd been worried that mentioning his family would make Harry remember his parents and make him depressed, or at least quiet for a while, but it hadn't seemed to. He could live with Harry's friends knowing, unless of course they decided to kill him for corrupting their friend, which was always a possibility, but he couldn't live with his father knowing. 

Still, he knew Harry would keep to the terms of their agreement, and if it kept Harry happy then it was worth the risk. He didn't know when he'd become such an idiot, risking his reputation in the hands of Harry's friends, but he had, and he'd have to deal with that. He wasn't entirely fond of them himself, but he thought they'd be loyal to Harry, and at the moment Harry wanted to keep him happy, so they'd probably not tell anyone. He for his part knew that Harry was fond of them, so he'd do his best to be nice to them, not that he hadn't been doing that lately, but he knew that this would put an even greater strain on their truce than usual.

He was a love sick fool, but at least he had priorities. Harry came first, and then keeping his position with his father. Harry because, well, he loved him, and his father because he knew the consequences if he did anything to displease him. His father was a true death eater, and that didn't stop when he was considering his son. If he showed any sign of weakness to the other side, he'd suffer the same punishments that were in store for them if the death eaters ever got to power again. Draco didn't know exactly what those punishment were, but he knew that he didn't want to find out.

***

Harry was standing stock still in the doorway out of shock, so Draco pushed him forwards and closed the door behind him. Roused by the movement, Harry did the only thing he could and clung to Draco whispering his name like a mantra. "Draco, Drac, it's been so long.." he said, his voice coming out with a sob.

"I know, love, I know." Draco replied, and they were kissing. Harry felt like he was drowning, but whether he was drowning in the kiss or Draco was his only source of air he couldn't tell. He didn't want to let go, this is what he had survived and been on the run for. The cause, the rest of it didn't matter compared to this.

It was Draco who eventually broke the kiss and moved away. Harry sighed, unable to stop himself. It had been so long, but the look on Draco's face warned him that this wasn't a social call. He wondered if it ever would be.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I've missed you too, but I came to warn you again." He did sound sorry, and rather desperate. Still Harry was annoyed, if not with Draco then with the whole situation.

"You haven't seen me for months, and you're telling me to go again? You've grown attached to the post of my knight in shining armour, haven't you."

"If I could stay with you longer I would Harry, believe me, but I didn't know where to start looking for you. That's a good thing, it means they wouldn't either, but if I can find you, they'll be able to as well."

"But I've been safe so far. Come with me Draco, when I go. It isn't worth running if I'm not with you."

"It is worth running, Harry. If they caught you...I can't risk that."

"So you're going back, and I may never see you again for months, years maybe."

"I have to. Father doesn't completely trust me."

"Why not? You've always been the perfect son from where I'm sitting." He couldn't keep a trace of jealousy out of his voice.

"I don't perform my... duties with enough enthusiasm apparently."

"You mean torture? Draco, you haven't tortured people have you?"

Draco silence spoke louder than words. Harry flinched at the thoughts it brought into his mind. With him, Draco had stopped being harsh, but he knew the depths of the anger and cruelty he could stoop to when pressed. Draco as a torturer was an uncomfortably real thought.

"Draco... Ron and Hermione… you haven't…"

Draco looked up at Harry "No, Harry, not them. Hermione hasn't been caught, she's probably still safe somewhere. Ron... he was caught a few days after. He'd obviously stayed behind to let Hermione get away. He died almost instantly, Harry, protecting her. He wasn't tortured."

Harry dropped his head, weighed down by his friend's sacrifice, and worrying that it was all his fault. If he hadn't been the famous Boy Who Lived, then they would not have been targets.

"I can't let that happen to you, Harry."

***

Malfoy Manor wasn't what you could call homely, Draco mused, looking at the long stretch of polished floor and wondering whether it was worth risking the wrath of his mother and crossing it in his dirty boots. After weighing the alternatives he decided to do it and face the consequences later. He was too tired to take them off or go around it.

When he had thought of Voldemort's rise, it had never been like this. He'd imagined it originally as a time of great excitement and then, as he grew up and his attitudes changed, as a time of great panic.

What he hadn't expected, was that it was a time of bone deep fear and weariness. All his days were spent working with death eaters, trying to look enthusiastic whilst hiding his fear and longing for Harry. He knew his enthusiasm wasn't convincing, but he hoped that most of them thought it was the nature of the work that he was doing which he didn't like. 

He was doing a broadly administrarial job, with the occasional required act of violence, organising Voldemort's troops. Occasionally it gave him the chance of doing something to help those on the other side, but too rarely for his liking. Still, he was cautious, and didn't fail any of the loyalty tests that the death eaters had to undergo. He knew that the final battle was still approaching, and he should wait until then to try and do as much damage as possible. Until then, he had to wait and watch, however much it hurt.

He also knew that Harry hadn't been captured, which gave him a large measure of hope, although his mind was often plagued by the terrible things which might have befallen him, or imaginings of what would happen if he were ever caught. Draco's nightmares, which he had reasonably often, all revolved around the 'questioning' of prisoners which he had been forced to take part in, but they had one change. In each one, his intended victim was Harry. He awoke screaming, unsure for a few desperate moments whether he had been dreaming or not.

At least at home he didn't have to put up a false front all of the time. He was left alone for the most part, except for the occasional parties the family threw, although he managed to get out of most of them by pleading sickness, or by sneaking away when no one was looking. 

Since Voldemort's rise, his mother had kept mostly to her room, only coming out when it was socially necessary, and when she did wearing the mask of smiles that she always used for guest and disappearing as soon as they had gone. Draco thought it was possible that there might be someone on the other side that she was worried about, but he couldn't be sure, and he didn't dare risk asking her. They were close, but when it came to the war, family meant little if you were on opposing sides. She could destroy him and he could destroy her, simply be registering a suspicion with anyone else.

His father had moved into their house in the city almost permanently, although it was an easy commute from Malfoy Manor, especially by the floo network, but he'd never liked living there anyway. It was a house fraught with traditions that Draco suspected his father was worried he wasn't living up to. He didn't get on with his wife either, which made living in the city a much more attractive option for him.

Given the choice, Draco would much rather live with Nerissa, even a silent and unresponsive Nerissa. She didn't make demands on him, and allowed him to think of Harry as much as he wanted without wondering whether his mind was being read. Luckily they hadn't got anyone who could do that in the organisation yet, but Draco dreaded the day that they did.

It was only a matter of time until the found out, and Draco knew exactly what would happen when they did. He just had to hope that it would all be over before then.

***

In the end, Harry made Draco help him pack, because he saw that he wasn't going to persuade him to stay, and he could keep him for a little longer if it would mean that he would get away faster. There weren't many things that he had grown attached to in these rooms, but there were a few.

As they packed, they talked, and Harry realised how much he had missed this. Having someone he trusted to talk to and spill out all his fears to. That that person was Draco made it all the more special. 

"How have you managed to keep undetected all this time?" Draco asked, going through Harry's wardrobe and folding the few clothes into a small bag.

"I stopped using magic, for one thing." Harry replied "It would make me too easy to track down. I've been living as a muggle instead. Apart from that, I've got a few charms and I try and be as unobtrusive as possible. It's been difficult, but I've managed."

Draco looked at him for a moment, a look of mingled admiration and pity on his face. "I wish...I mean I'm sorry..."

"You can't blame yourself for all this Draco, it's not your fault."

"I know. I just wish there was something I could do about it."

Harry swallowed a comment about coming with him and helping him with the loneliness. He'd already lost that argument, and he didn't want to spend the time they had left replaying it. "You saved me Draco. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be alive at all."

"It's just not enough. There must be more I can do. I try and stop them, but it's difficult without getting caught. Being my father's son doesn't mean people like me, it just means they fear me a bit. That doesn't help me help other people."

Harry had never heard Draco so close to failure. He seemed to be sinking into despair as he said the words. Knowing only one thing that would bring him out of it, Harry kissed him.

The kiss didn't last as long as the last one had, because both of them knew this time that what they were risking, but that didn't stop it from being sweet.

When they broke apart, Harry looked around him. "I suppose I'm ready" he said. "I'll leave the rent on the table and the door unlocked. Hopefully Mrs Caseton will be the first on to come in and she'll get it." he looked up at Draco "So, where now?"

"I don't know exactly. I don't know if it'd be a good idea for me to know really, but there are rumours that Dumbledore and the rest are gathering forces overseas. Some say France, some say America. There are a few that say Romania, but I don't think that's likely. I think you should go to them Harry, they'll be best able to protect you."

"So, you're saying I should leave the country?"

"Yes, it's not safe for you here, you know that."

"But when will I ever get to see you?" 

"When this is over, Harry, when we've won. We'll be together then" Together like they'd been before, in love and in friendship, together as was impossible now.

Harry didn't like the sound of those words. They sounded almost like never.

***

Harry was concentrating. His eyes were fixed on the book in front of him, with an almost painful expression, and his forehead was creased with a single line. His glasses had slipped down slightly onto his nose, and after every few pages he had to push them up to stop them falling off.

Draco was also concentrating, but his subject of interest was not his book, but Harry. He was trying to memorise the exact expression Harry got when he read something he wasn't sure about, and the way his nose tilted. He knew that at any time soon Harry would look up and tell him off for not concentrating on the book, but, honestly, what were books when there was so much that you could learn just from looking at someone.

Draco had learned that Harry squinted slightly when he was trying to figure out a point, or memorise it. He also caught his lower lip in his teeth whenever something was eluding him. 

Once Harry had realised that Draco didn't have ulterior motives for being nice to him (a realisation that was a long time in coming, but Draco persevered) he had accepted Draco quite readily into his group of friends. His friends had been even more sceptical than Harry was, and still tended to look at him with suspicion, but Draco tolerated it because recently he had had a revelation. 

He was in love with Harry Potter.

It made sense in a twisted kind of way. That was why he'd been so jealous of Harry and his friends. They'd been close to him when all he could do was watch from a distance.

It was better now, he supposed, knowing, even if he couldn't tell Harry how he felt. He knew the other boy was accepting, but he didn't think that would stretch to accepting that Draco, his ex-worse enemy was in love with him. Still, it meant that he got to have times like these, when he could stare at Harry without interruption and pretend to do his homework. 

Harry had noticed that Draco often didn't get much done in their study sessions, and he often caught him not doing whatever they were meant to be doing, but he didn't seem to be inclined to stop the habit they'd got into of doing their homework together. Draco was glad. It was stupid, but he was more happy doing homework here than he had been for a long time. 

***

They stood in the airport to say their last goodbyes. Perhaps the most uncomfortable place for them to be said. Harry had a false passport that Draco had somehow acquired, and they stood at the side, neither wanting to say what they were feeling.

They could feel the indifferent eyes of a thousand travellers on them, so they couldn't show what they were feeling either. They stood uncomfortably facing each other, not wanting to look conspicuous, but painfully aware that this would be the last time they would see each other for a long while.

They consoled themselves with looking at each other, burning each other into their memories as they had done when they were fist together, neither entirely sure of the other.

Finally, Harry knew it was time to leave.

"Drac, love, I have to go."

"I know. Goodbye, my love."

Draco took a long last look at him, and then, so as to make it easier for Harry, he turned and walked away, not looking back, but not with an entirely confident stride either.

Looking at Draco's slowly retreating back, Harry was struck with the idea that he was leaving home, and wondered if he would ever come back

-FIN


End file.
